Winter Wonderland

A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.

-Carl Reiner

Low temperatures and snow are the realities of winter in River Falls. Today (Saturday, Jan. 18^th) we have about 7 inches of new snow on the ground with more coming. Temperatures will be falling all day, and they will end up in the single digits with wind chills about 10-below zero. Last night, we drove the half-mile to Ben’s house for dinner in white-out conditions, with winds whipping the snow around in swirling circles that reduced visibility to a short distance. It was beautiful. People have widely disparate views of cold weather, but most people dislike it. Recent polls show that only 10% of Americans indicate that winter is their favorite season.

I always liked snow—as long as I didn’t have to drive in it. One of the worst snow storms I ever encountered was in April in the early ‘80s while driving from Chicago to Stevens Point, Wisconsin to visit a girlfriend. I couldn’t see the front of my car, and I was scared to death for that entire drive. On the other hand, I always enjoyed shoveling snow for some reason. I think it is the peaceful nature of the activity. A fresh snowfall hides all of the dirt and muffles the noise of the world. It’s as if everything is cleansed or purified in some way. During my musician days in Chicago, I would often get home at 2:00 in the morning after a gig or from tending bar. That was my favorite time to shovel snow. At that time, I felt as if I was the only person in the world. Also, one of the fondest memories of my childhood was the record-setting blizzard that hit Chicago in January 1967. Twenty-three inches of snow fell in a few hours and effectively shut the city down. We received a rare snow day, and I remember walking through thigh-high snow down the middle of 111^th street with my siblings without a car in sight. Then, that night, an amazing thing happened. Snow plows were over-extended from trying to dig the city out from under 2 feet of snow, and our little side street was low on the list of priorities. Instead of waiting several days until the plows reached us, however, all of the neighbors on our block got together, and we dug a path down the entire block to the main street. These were neighbors who nursed petty grievances, bickered with each other, or otherwise had trouble getting along. But that day, they set their differences aside and worked together in common cause. Everyone—men, women, and children—got involved with that Herculean task and shoveled a path to 111^th Street. I still smile at the memory.

Winter must be cold for those with no warm memories.

-Anne Bradstreet

When we lived in Nashville, even a small snowfall of a few inches would create panic in the streets. All schools would have been closed the night before in anticipation of the impending calamity, and people would flock to grocery stores and empty the shelves, stocking up as if preparing for a zombie apocalypse. In Tennessee’s defense, though, there are several factors that make this a reasonable response. First, Nashville doesn’t get much snow; more often, they get freezing rain or ice which is much more difficult to navigate than snow. Second, they don’t have much snow removal equipment. They pay incredibly low taxes (about 1/3 of what we pay in Wisconsin), and it would not be economically feasible to buy a bunch of equipment that might not be used for years. Finally, Nashville is built on hilly terrain. Almost every stop-sign or traffic light is at the top or bottom of a hill. Add icy roads to that equation, and the city comes to a standstill. In River Falls and surrounding towns, the snow removal is excellent. Snow falls, they push it out of the way, and life goes on. Yesterday, I was out shoveling, and the operator of a city snow plow stopped to chat with me. He was cheerful and upbeat, despite the long hours that accompany dealing with a storm that would drop snow on us for about 20 hours. And that seems to be the thing that I have noticed most often about how people up here handle winter: they just shrug and deal with it.

Two days ago, I was driving downtown for breakfast and a quick trip to the Ace Hardware store. While driving, the disc jockey on the radio was giving the weather report. He said, “It’s five below zero today, and the wind-chill factor makes it feel like 27 below. Tomorrow, the low will be minus-one degree, so that’s not too bad. Then it will heat up to 23 degrees. That will feel pretty good.” Then, while at the hardware store to pick up paint supplies, I talked with the clerk at the register. As it always does around here, the subject of the cold came up. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s cold, but it’s sunny. That’s something.” I mentioned that we were supposed to get a sizable amount of snow on the weekend, and he said, “Who knows; yesterday they said we would get two inches, and all we got was some flurries. Now they’re saying that tomorrow we could get anywhere from 4 to 15 inches. What good is that info? They’re just covering their asses.”

One thing about cold weather: it brings out the statistician in everyone.

-Paul Theroux

Later that day, when discussing the weather, Tony, the plumber working on our bathroom re-model, told me “You just have to try new activities.” He added that his son loves ice fishing. I’d like to try that someday. Two other things I’d like to try, but have not tackled yet are cross-country skiing and snowshoeing. Ben and Amber have a set of snowshoes, so perhaps I’ll give it a crack later today. Kids around here simply don’t seem to pay any attention to the weather. They just put on another layer of clothes and go out and play. There is an old Norwegian aphorism that I have read in the paper at least three times since we moved up here. It says, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.”

Well, it appears as if the snow has finally stopped. I guess I’ll layer-up and go shovel for the fourth and final time since yesterday. One final quote:

The cold never bothered me anyway.

-Elsa in Frozen